Paulina. You were so enchanted by the conversation of Madame Arkadina that you did not even notice the cold. Confess that you admire her.
Dorn. I am fifty-five years old.
Paulina. A trifle. That is not old for a man. You have kept your looks magnificently, and women still like you.
Dorn. What are you trying to tell me?
Paulina. You men are all ready to go down on your knees to an actress, all of you.
Dorn. [Sings]
“Once more I stand before thee.”
It is only right that artists should be made much of by society and treated differently from, let us say, merchants. It is a kind of idealism.
Paulina. When women have loved you and thrown themselves at your head, has that been idealism?
Dorn. [Shrugging his shoulders] I can’t say. There has been a great deal that was admirable in my relations with women. In me they liked, above all, the superior doctor. Ten years ago, you remember, I was the only decent doctor they had in this part of the country—and then, I have always acted like a man of honour.
Paulina. [Seizes his hand] Dearest!
Dorn. Be quiet! Here they come.
Arkadina comes in on Sorin’s arm; also Trigorin, Shamraeff, Medviedenko, and Masha.
Shamraeff. She acted most beautifully at the Poltava Fair in 1873; she was really magnificent. But tell me, too, where Tchadin the comedian is now? He was inimitable as Rasplueff, better than Sadofski. Where is he now?
Arkadina. Don’t ask me where all those antediluvians are! I know nothing about them.
